


Prince Charming

by sherlockonthebarricade



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockonthebarricade/pseuds/sherlockonthebarricade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras hadn't previously believed in love at first sight, </p>
<p>but then, suddenly, he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince Charming

"Sire, your father wishes to see you." 

A guard knocked loudly on the door of Enjolras's quarters. He had been planning a charity event for the poor of his father's kingdom. He was busy.

"Tell him I am attending to my royal duties, but will gladly see to his wishes in an hour." Enjolras muttered bitterly through his teeth.  
"My lord, His Majesty the King has demanded your presence immediately."  
"Of course he has." The young prince stood up and made his way to the throne room.

The hall was large and spacious, room enough for at least two hundred people to gather comfortably for a feast, or even a ball. At the head of the hall sat the king on his golden throne, grimacing in his attempt to smile at the prince walking towards him. His son bowed when he reached him, and then straightened up, barely suppressing his frown.

"You wished to see me, my lord?" Enjolras said pleasantly.  
"You see, my son, you are of age and soon you will be king. It is time for you to take a bride."  
"A... Bride?" The prince mumbled, worried.  
"Indeed. I have invited all the women of nobility to a grand ball at the end of the month, at which you may pick a lady to marry."  
"Father, I don't-" Enjolras attempted to say, before the king interrupted.  
"Know what to say! I know, my child, it is an exciting prospect. I have asked the royal dresser to make you a fine suit for the ball. Consider it an engagement present."  
"But Father, I'm-" He started, but his father cut him off once again.  
"Enough, boy. Leave me." 

~

The night of the ball came and royal families from around the world began arriving. Enjolras kissed countless hands of the daughters of kings, emperors, lords and other noblemen. He took no notice of any of them. He was not interested. 

"Enjolras, do you see no one you wish to marry?" The king asked.  
"Alas I do not, Father. You see, none of these women really fit what I'm looking for."  
"Do you desire a more beautiful bride? Fear not, for there are a few more princesses yet to be introduced."

At that moment, the door flew open once again. A beautiful strawberry blonde girl in a flowing purple gown entered the ballroom. Her dress sparkled in the light of the chandelier. 

"The Princess Jehan of Corona, accompanied by her brother, Prince Grantaire of Corona."

"Listen, my son. Those are the heirs of Queen Rapunzel. We know she wishes to divide her land equally amongst her children, which would prove most advantageous to us if you were to marry Princess Jehan."  
"Understood." Enjolras stared, at, the king assumed, the princess.  
"I also have plans to offer your sister, Cosette, to Prince Grantaire."

'I have plans to offer myself to Prince Grantaire.' Enjolras thought, though he'd never voice the words. The prince stood next to his sister. She shimmered, but he shone with the light of a thousand stars. Everything, from his curly hair and misty eyes to his muscular legs and polished boots, was perfect about him. Enjolras hadn't previously believed in love at first sight, but then, suddenly, he did.

When all the greeting was done, the king stood up. "The prince will now choose his partner for the first dance." He announced. Enjolras made his way down the stairs, approaching the prince and princess of Corona. He put on a pleasant smile, attempting to hide the nervousness and excitement building auto inside him. 

"Prince Grantaire, would you dance with me?" He whispered.  
"Of course, if you're sure?" Grantaire's eyes grew wide with anticipation.  
"I am."  
"Then let's dance." 

Grantaire put his hand in Enjolras's and let the prince escort him to the dance floor. Enjolras placed his free hand gently on Grantaire's waist and Grantaire rested his on Enjolras's shoulder. The orchestra began and Enjolras guided Grantaire around the room, stepping in time with the waltz being played. Their eyes didn't leave each other as their feet moved around. Enjolras had always fallen over if he hadn't watched his feet in the few dance lessons he'd been forced to attend, but somehow it was different with Grantaire. Everything was different with Grantaire. 

"Enjolras!" The king roared. "What are you doing?"  
"I've been looking for a way to tell you: I'm gay!" Enjolras yelled back, twirling Grantaire around to the music. The king's eyes burned with anger.  
"I am disappointed in you. All these rich and beautiful women and you choose him?"  
"Well, I happen to like him!" Enjolras's fury rivalled even his father's anger. His faced flushed a deep red and contorted into a terrifying glare. He pulled Grantaire towards the door and out into the palace gardens. 

"I'm sorry, I should never have let you dance with me. I should have known it would only anger the king."  
"It is I that should apologise. I danced with you and forced you to face my father's wrath. I am so sorry, Prince Grantaire."  
"Do not apologise. It is not your fault, but your father's. Let it not ruin the rest of the evening." Grantaire took Enjolras's hand and kissed it.  
"We can't go back in there." Enjolras stared off into the distance.  
"I know. Let us walk. Show me the gardens."  
"As you wish, Prince Grantaire."  
Grantaire cringed. "Please don't feel you must call me that. Just Grantaire. Or R. Or any other nickname you can think of."  
"Grantaire, R." Enjolras rolled it over his tongue.

Enjolras offered his arm to Grantaire, who gladly wrapped him fingers around Enjolras's muscular bicep. They talked about kingdoms and magic and their parents.

"I thought you were going to ask Jehan to dance."  
"I had no other intentions than to dance with you." Enjolras glanced sideways at the prince standing next to him.  
"I'm glad of that, even if it did end badly. I'm also glad that you did not choose my sister as your bride, as she is rather smitten with a serving boy back home. He is the only person besides Mother, Father and myself who knows and accepts Jehan for who she is. She is genderfluid. One day she is a princess, the next a prince, sometimes both, sometimes neither. Unless she has told us, like she has today, how to address her we usually just call her Your Excellency." Grantaire smiled fondly.  
"Your sister is very beautiful. She takes after your parents?"  
"Indeed she does. My mother is still a stunning lady, and Father was, apparently, a heartthrob in his younger days."  
"Who told you that?"  
"He did." Grantaire chuckled. "Jehan inherited good looks from both of them. I, sadly, inherited from neither."  
"You do not think much of yourself?"  
"I do not, and quite rightly so."  
"Grantaire, you are perhaps the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on. Do not put yourself down. You had me enchanted, completely under your spell, from the moment I saw you. And your fair face is matched by an equally beautiful heart." 

They were at the edge of the palace gardens where the hedges and flowerbeds stopped and the land broke off into the sea. There was a full moon shining above them, sitting in a blanket of stars. They stood on the edge of the cliff. Grantaire slid his hand down into Enjolras's. They looked at each other, gazing into each other's eyes. 

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Enjolras asked.  
"Maybe." Grantaire edged closer to the other prince.  
"What about true love?" Enjolras breathed, his heartbeat quickening. Their faces were now only inches apart.  
"Not until I met you." Grantaire whispered. He put his free hand on Enjolras's waist, pulling him closer and closer until there was next to nothing keeping them apart. Enjolras couldn't hold himself back any longer. He pressed his lips against Grantaire's. 

It was a short, soft kiss, but with it they both felt a spark. It was true love. The type you only find in fairytales. Grantaire was the first to speak when they broke apart. The two princes stood in each other's arms with their foreheads pressed together, when Grantaire whispered, "run away with me."


End file.
